


Stupid little things

by flukedoctor



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky is also sad, M/M, Steve is sad, but he's not sure why, set just before winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 05:59:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flukedoctor/pseuds/flukedoctor
Summary: Steve thinks he's doing fine.He's not really.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve is doing fine. Really.

It's been a couple years since he came out the ice and honestly he's getting along great. He's started working with Shield, the agency Peggy setup and, wow Steve's so proud of all that she's accomplished, he really is. He visits her often and at times it can be hard because he's the one that was frozen, not her and sometimes that's a harsh reminder but she's still so beautiful.

Then he's got his little team of heroes that seem to have banded together to stop the aliens (fucking aliens, Bucky would've lost it), although that seems to be on hold for the time being. It's fine though, Steve's started running with this guy he's yet to ask the name of, but he winds him up and Steve thinks they're having a good time.

So yeah, a couple years out the ice and he's doing fine. Although, a couple years out the ice means a couple of years since it happened. And that can really hurt.

Steve didn't really have the proper time to grieve after, considering there was the whole race to stop that red faced bastard from taking over the world, then came the ice. But somehow between that and the aliens, Steve finally found his time to grieve.

He grieved, of course he did, he cried and punched a wall then cried again because he was angry and sad and he really missed Bucky. He really really missed Bucky. But after that, Steve thought he was fine. He'd done the whole breakdown, it was time to move on, that's what Bucky would've wanted and Steve was doing good. Plus, the aliens and Stark’s dickhead son was a good distraction.

But sometimes, sometimes it really just hit.

He's right in the middle of the battle in New York. These aliens (fucking aliens Jesus Christ) are piling in and Steve's using every inch of strength he has to stop them. There's one point, Steve doesn't remember exactly what happened, he thinks he punched one or kicked one, damn he could've ripped it's head off Steve’s memory is so blurry but something he does remember, something he remembers so vividly it can't possibly not be real is a whisper in his ear, a familiar smug Brooklyn drawl telling him good job. Steve doesn't think anything of it. He lets a little smirk unfurl in his lips and mutters ‘ _you said it Buck_ ’ and carries on fighting.

It's only after everything, after the gaping black hole and Hulk smashing up Loki and they're all sitting eating whatever this shawarma thing is, that Steve looks around and realises that Bucky isn't actually there. Which, yeah, makes sense. Of course Bucky isn't there. Of course.

 

-

 

Steve’s had a long day by the time he collapses into his new bed in his new apartment. He's never lived in DC before, he's never actually lived on his own before so he can't really be blamed for the complete lack of furniture in this new place. When he told Natasha he sort of figured the place would come with furniture she gave him this look that Clint told him would be best to avoid forever. So Steve sort of screwed up there.

Nevertheless, Nat takes him to IKEA where she picks out all of Steve’s new furniture then leaves him to haul it all up three flights of stairs. She says Steve is a super soldier and this really shouldn't be that hard for him and Steve would be inclined to believe, except it's a lot of furniture and by the time he's got it all set up, he's genuinely concerned his asthma is going to make a reappearance.

After, he visits Peggy and as much as he loves her, that can be tiring too. He hates himself for thinking that but he becomes emotionally drained after every time Peggy realises he's alive. It hurts.

So when Steve finally stumbles into bed that night, his eyes are nearly shut the minute he hits the pillow. And it's just as he's drifting off that he feels something. Something like an arm wrapped around him and fingers tapping against his chest, right above his heart. It's a familiar feeling, even though it's not as easy for that arm to wrap around him anymore.

Steve's eyes snap open but the feeling disappears as quickly as it came. He groans and pushes his face into the pillow. It's stupid, this is stupid. Of course he can't feel that anymore. He’ll never feel that again.

 

-

 

Steve's a strong guy, he can run round the Washington Monument four times as fast as a regular man, he can jump out of helicopters and he's even punched Adolf Hitler in the face two hundred times. This means that carrying five grocery bags up three flights of stairs really shouldn't be that big a deal.

Somehow it is though.

For some reason the lobby is filled to the brim with people and trying to squeeze through everyone in order to reach the elevator becomes a hideous task that nearly results in Steve dropping a bagful of vegetables all over an elderly woman.

Then Steve trips stepping out of the elevator which does result in him dropping a bagful of vegetables. However elderly women are spared from the heavy onslaught of vegetables as they only spill across the floor.

Still, as Steve drops to his knees to pick them up, he can't help but long for a time when he did stumble home with five bags of groceries only to be greeted with a nudge and a ‘ _stupid punk, course you can't carry them all_ ’ as Bucky took three bags into his own arms.

Steve's chest tightens at that and when he makes it back to his apartment he just abandons the groceries on the counter, not at all in the mood to put them away on his own.

 

-

 

Sharon, Steve's neighbour mentions that she rarely hears any noise coming from his place, does he even live there? Steve just gives her a smile and assures her he does, he's just had his own fair share of noisy neighbours and he'd rather not have to force anyone else to live through that. 

  

Truth is, Steve is just kind of quiet at home. He's on his own for one thing so conversations are pretty limited and he rarely watches TV, instead choosing to sketch by the window because it doesn't seem as mindless. He has a music player, Nat gifted him it so he could listen to his ‘Grampa music’ as Nat called it, but that's only ever been put to use once.

Steve thought it'd be nice to have some music accompanying him as he sketched so he stuck on one of the old CDs Nat had bought him. Bing Crosby’s voice drifted out the speakers and Steve smiled and went back to his drawing.

All too soon though Steve remembered a voice singing along and someone tapping their feet and he had to shut it off. It was more fun when he wasn't alone anyway.

 

-

 

There's these kids that smoke round the back of Steve’s building and he feels like he should say something, he really should. Sure, everyone smoked when Steve was a kid but that was before they knew of the dangers and risks and honestly as someone who's had trouble sucking clean air into their lungs before, Steve knows that kids smoking just isn't right, for anyone.

So the next time Steve walks home and sees these kids passing around a cigarette, he makes his way over. He doesn't get very far before the strong smell of smoke is attacking his senses and for a minute Steve actually forgets where he is.

It's as if he's smelling this smoke off Bucky’s white shirt, not some kids in an alley. As if Bucky’s greeting him after a day of work with his crooked smile and he’s telling Steve he had his cigarette outside so Steve wouldn't have to deal with the smoke.

But then one of the kids starts spluttering and Steve's right over, lecturing the kids on how much damage smoking can do to a person. The kids probably aren't listening, too star struck by the fact that Captain America is lecturing them and honestly Steve isn't all there either.

After signing a couple autographs and making the kids hand over their cigarettes, Steve shoos the kids home and heads back himself. He really needs to get a hold on this,he tells himself. He can't go drifting off whenever he smells something Bucky used to smell like, it's not even an uncommon smell for goodness sake.

 

-

 

Some nights Steve doesn't sleep. He just can't, there's too much rattling around his head and sleep just doesn't come. It's no big deal. Occasionally a midnight snack helps so Steve sets out to make himself a sandwich in hopes that he'll actually catch a few hours tonight. If he doesn't get to sleep, he doesn't get to sleep, at least he won't be hungry.

When he opens his fridge he's a little disappointed to find he's only got baloney, he was really craving some egg mayonnaise. Still, he makes his sandwich and sits down at the table with the newspaper. But when he bites into it, he can't help the grimace on his face. It doesn't taste right, not how it should and he's up and at the fridge, raking through looking for ingredients to make it taste right.

He tries everything on it, mustard, lettuce, tomato even a dash of herbs he found hidden in the back but it still doesn't taste right. Then, then it hits why it doesn't taste right and it hits so so hard.

It doesn't taste right because Steve's never made a baloney sandwich, of course he's never made a baloney sandwich because why would he ever need to when Bucky always made the best baloney sandwiches in Brooklyn. Steve never knew how he did it, they just tasted so damn good and that's why his own dumb sandwich doesn't taste good because _Steve_ made it, not _Bucky_ and Steve near enough falls to his knees crying about a damn sandwich.

But it's not about a sandwich though, is it? It's not a sandwich Steve wants, it's Bucky Steve wants and it's Bucky who Steve wants telling him he's doing a good job and reaching out to him in bed and helping him with groceries and singing along to the radio and smelling of smoke when he comes home and it's Bucky who Steve wants to make him a damn baloney sandwich. Steve wants Bucky. Steve needs Bucky doing all his stupid little things that make him Bucky because Steve misses him so much. He misses him so so much and all he wants is these stupid little things back in his life.

But Steve can't have that, not anymore.

So he picks himself off the ground, he throws his sandwich away and he lies back down in bed. He screws his eyes shut and tells himself to go to sleep, to forget all it because he can't have it anymore. And he tells himself that over and over until he does fall into a restless sleep where all he dreams about is Bucky and all of Bucky’s stupid little things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soldier isn't supposed to remember. 
> 
> But he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two is here !!

The soldier does remember things, even though they try to make him forget. 

He remembers every mission, he sees every victim every time he closes his eyes. He can't forget, he’ll never forget, no matter how many times they fry his brain and put him on ice. The memories are always there, lingering behind his eyes. 

There are others too though, ones the soldier can never quite grasp. They hit him unsuspectingly out of nowhere and confuse him, leaving him not quite sure what they mean. 

Like when he's on a mission and it's snowing. 

The soldier knows what he's here for, he just has to wait, but then the snow starts to fall. It falls soft and slow and flakes flutter into the hair falling across his face. He can see the tiny snowflakes small and white, a dramatic contrast to the dirt road and dying trees surrounding him. The soldier reaches out to touch one and for a second he doesn't see his own gloved fingers reaching out, but instead small, skinny fingers tinged blue reaching out delicately only to pull away the minute they touch the snow. The soldier thinks he hears a laugh too, a very familiar laugh but it's cut off by the sound of a car. 

The soldier snaps back into focus then. The waiting is over, his mission is here and he sets off ready to do his job. 

The fingers and the laugh sit at the back of his mind, too far to reach or grasp onto and he doesn't think about them again because stupid things like that shouldn't have his attention. 

-

This time the soldier is in a bunker. He isn't sure of the exact location, he was just told he was to wait here with the squadron until his orders were given. 

He sits at the back alone while the squadron sit together huddled around a table. It's cold, very cold so they sit close together as they laugh and drink. 

Watching the squadron makes the soldier narrow his eyes and cock his head slightly. This seems familiar. He thinks he remembers something similar, although then it wasn't a bunker and there was only one other person. He remembers the closeness, being draped across someone, someone small? There's a feeling in the soldier's chest, something he thinks was there before but before he can grasp onto it, one of the squadron has caught him staring. 

They shout at him and he turns away in hopes of avoiding a punishment. He's lucky tonight, the squadron seem reluctant to leave the heat they've accumulated so he receives angry threats and a promise of worse if he doesn't stop. 

The soldier doesn't look up again, there's no need to. He keeps his head down and doesn't think, it's the only way to avoid punishment. 

-

They're doing work on his arm again, modifying it to make him better they say. The soldier doesn't care, as long as he can do his missions. 

He zones out during these times, the pain doesn't really bother him anymore. He looks around and evaluates the room. There's only a single door blocked by two guards and no windows. There are four doctors, two working on his arm, the other two working on something across the room. Nothing is dramatically different, they do like to keep a routine with him. 

He looks at the medical table next to him, looking over all the tools they stick into his arm. This time there's a little notebook next to the tray of tools and a yellow pencil lying next to it. 

The soldier can't read what's been written but that's not what his attention is on anyway. No, he's more interested in the pencil shavings littered across the table. Because when he looks at these shavings, he doesn't feel like he's sitting in this chair. 

It feels like an apartment and he's sitting against a couch, maybe an arm chair. There's pencil shavings across the floor and he's counting them, restarting after every time someone brushes more onto the floor. 

Then one of the doctors pushes a tool in too hard into his arm and he's hissing in pain. He gets a slap over the back of his head for making noise and everything goes back to the way it was. 

The soldier doesn't look at the pencil shavings again because they're stupid and not worth his attention. 

-

It's one of the rare times the soldier is allowed to actually sleep as opposed to just being put back on the ice. 

He's been given a small cot that's barely big enough but the soldier crams himself into it, desperate to have a normal sleep for once. 

It turns out though that sleeping like this is a lot worse than being on ice because he doesn't get to avoid dreams this way. He sees every kill and every mission replaying themselves in front of his eyes and there's nothing he can do to change it. 

He moves around a lot and the cot creaks and whines under him. At one point, just as he's come out of one dream and is slowly drifting into another, the soldier finds himself reaching out for something. He's not sure what, all he knows is that it should be small and that he can wrap his arm around it and feel the rhythmic heartbeat beneath his fingertips. 

He never reaches it, instead falling into another nightmare full of screams and tears and pleas to please stop. 

The next night he's put back on ice because everyone in the bunker complained he made too much noise. It's better this way anyway, no dreams and no reaching out for things that aren't and never will be there. 

-

There's a mission. He's being briefed on the details and the soldier gives it all his attention. He understands what he's supposed to do. It seems straightforward enough, something he's done a million times before. 

What throws him off though is when Pierce says the name. 

Steven Grant Rogers 

The soldier remembers that name, he does, he knows he does. But he never heard it said like that. 

He can remember a woman saying it scoldingly, telling Steven Grant Rogers to stop disturbing the class. And he remembers another woman, one with a softer voice but just as firm telling the soldier as well as Steven to stop getting into trouble. And he remembers another voice too, this one a man’s, maybe, maybe his own? But it's laughing the name, it's not angry like the others and it's laughing and there's more laughing and the soldier doesn't know what this means. 

Pierce is glaring at him, shouting at him to get ahold of himself and before he knows it he's being forced back into that chair.

It hurts and it burns but there's nothing there after. He's ready now, nothing in his way. No stupid thoughts, no stupid little things wracking his brain. Only the mission is important. Only the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to you all for reading and for all your kudos too !!

**Author's Note:**

> Part two coming soon !!


End file.
